


lost for words

by Rehearsal_Dweller



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Gen, spoilers for the golden spear!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 20:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19116931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller
Summary: "She's still adjusting. We're all still adjusting. It'll be okay, Louie."Louie, on parents and uncles and connecting.





	lost for words

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to find the right fit for a "the family finds out Donald was Not On The Cruise" fic for a few weeks, and I ended up settling on a bit of a Louie character study in the process?  
> Poor kid just needs some stability to help him cope with the Mom Thing. Too bad his only real parent is on the moon.

Having Mom home was cool and all, but Louie was really looking forward to the end of Uncle Donald’s cruise. Louie would be the first to admit that Uncle Donald _needed_ this break – he and his brothers on their own were nothing if not a handful, and now they had a sister in the mix, not to mention all the dangerous craziness they got into since moving in with Scrooge. He looked out bedroom window, shoving his hands deeper into the pocket of his hoodie. Dewey, Webby, and Mom were doing some kind of athletic challenge/race while Huey took notes; Louie was pretty sure he’d heard them mention something about testing the effect of Earth’s gravity on Mom after so long on the moon before they ran outside.

He could only imagine what Uncle Donald would think when he found out Mom was back. If he’d been stressed before – well, Louie thought as he watched Dewey and Webby flip through the air over Mom’s head, Mom was definitely not going to make things easier. He checked the calendar next to their bunk beds, where the date that Uncle Donald was due home from his cruise was circled three times and underlined seven. Just a few more days.

Louie could handle a few more days.

There was a crash outside and Louie winced. Maybe he couldn’t handle a few more days.

He looked out the window again. Dewey, Webby, and Mom were all sprawled on the ground now, and the three of them and Huey were all laughing. Louie envied his brothers a little bit for how easily they’d found a relationship with Mom. He trusted her, now, and knew that she was trying, but somehow it was still a little awkward every time they were left alone together.

He’d spent many an hour talking about it with Huey, usually while lying in bed late at night (but not so late that Dewey, king of bedtime avoidance, was there) staring up at the bunks above him and listening to Hu’s disembodied voice, because this was too real to be looking anybody in the eye for.

“It’s easy for Dewey,” Louie said last night, pressing his head into his pillow. “She basically _is_ Dewey.”

“I think he’s exaggerating it because he _likes_ being like her,” Huey replied. “You know how he gets sometimes.”

“Even if he is, he’s still like her,” said Louie. “Still the daring adventurer, still high-energy, still full of _stupid_ puns – he’s what she _wanted_ in a kid.” He took a breath, fussing with the feathers on the top of his head. “You are, too. You’re smart and resourceful; you’re good at almost everything you do. I’m just –“

“A planner,” Huey supplied, “and a strategist. Don’t you ‘I’m just’ at me, Lou.”

“I’m not like _her_ ,” Louie insisted. “And she doesn’t know how to relate to me because of it. I don’t know how to relate to her, either.”

“Maybe you guys just need to sit down together and chat,” his brother suggested. “Just get to know each other?”

“I’ve _tried_.” Louie rolled over, squeezing his pillow between his right arm and his cheek. “She has no point of reference for most of my interests, because she’s been _on the moon_ which puts her a little behind the times!” There was a slight edge to his voice, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to force it down before he spoke again. “She doesn’t like to sit in one place for too long, anyway.”

Huey leaned over the side of the bed, hanging upside down into Louie’s field of vision. “She’s still adjusting. We’re all still adjusting. It’ll be okay, Louie.”

Easy for Huey to say.

Louie dug his hands further into his hoodie pocket, pushing the fabric down as he straightened his elbows a little more. In a few days Uncle Donald would be home, Uncle Donald who raised Louie, who loved him, and _knew_ him as Louie, not as some vague imaginary person ( _Rebel)_ he wanted Louie to be. Quite honestly, Louie wasn’t really sure why he was so sure that Uncle Donald being there would make the Mom situation any better, beyond the simple fact that, as much as he tried to seem detached and cool, being close to Uncle Donald was inherently comforting to Louie. Plus, if any of the forces behind the universe were on Louie’s side, Uncle Donald and Mom’s reunion would be dramatic enough to buy him some time to figure out what he was doing.

He knew that if _he_ were reuniting with _Dewey_ after ten years apart it would be explosive.

( _Huey_ would never go running off to space in the first place; he’d be standing next to Louie on earth waiting for their brother with the Junior Woodchuck Guide open to the page about ‘Welcoming Back a Reckless Sibling After a Long Estrangement’ or something.)

Just a few more days.

\--

Uncle Donald had taken the bus to the cruise, but the boys had insisted that they should pick him up when he got home. When the day finally came that his cruise would be returning home Huey, Dewey, Louie, Scrooge, and Mom piled into the limo and headed down to the shore.

They knew what time he was supposed to be leaving the ship, and had planned their arrival accordingly. Uncle Donald knew they’d be coming to get him, so it was just a matter of waiting until they saw him.

Only his disembarking time came and went, people flooding off of the ship, and Donald never came.

They sat there for hours, watching as the arrivals trickled to a stop. Mom was getting fidgety, she kept checking her watch and eventually started a game with Dewey to pass the time. Scrooge kept checking his watch and then looking outside, then checking his watch again. About an hour in, he got a business call and had to step out of the car, but continued to do the same check watch check door pattern while on his call. Huey had brought a book, anticipating Uncle Donald’s bad luck causing a delay, but it was a book he had already started and finished sooner than he expected, so he started it over.

Louie was on his phone, though with every passing minute he was less focused on his scrolling. He let the world around him (loud, boisterous, cluttered) fade into background noise. It got harder the longer they waited.

“Donnie must’ve heard I’m here,” Mom said after a while, “he’s avoiding me.”

“Uncle Donald misses you, he wouldn’t avoid you,” Huey replied without looking up from what he was doing.

“I’m _joking_ ,” said Mom. “Although I don’t _really_ know how he’ll take it.”

Before anyone could say anything else, an announcement about boarding for the next cruise rang out.

Louie dropped his phone. Huey snapped his book shut. Dewey fell still.

They were boarding the next cruise, and Uncle Donald wasn’t back.

Scrooge tapped on the back window. Mom rolled it down and Scrooge stuck his face into the limo. “I’m going to go make sure he hasn’t gotten stuck to something or arrested.”

“Good call, Uncle S,” Mom said, nodding. She glanced at the boys, all sitting frozen. “I’ll come with you, how about.”

She climbed out of the car and let the door fall shut behind her.

“I know we’re a hassle, but Uncle Donald wouldn’t, like, abandon us, right?” Dewey said. He had his stupid joke face on, but his tone fell a little short – a little too real.

“He doesn’t trust Uncle Scrooge to take care of us on his own,” Louie replied, “on account of that time he forgot we were enrolled at school and took us on a two week trip to South America while Uncle Donald was at Aunt Daisy’s house for brunch.”

“Also, he loves us,” Huey added.

Louie hummed vaguely in agreement.

They sat quietly for a while, subdued. It wasn’t silent, because Launchpad was blasting pop music from the front seat. A few times, one of them would open his mouth to speak again, then close it without saying anything.

A little while later, Mom and Uncle Scrooge came back to the car, looking concerned.

Without Uncle Donald.

“Where’s –“ Huey started.

“Your uncle,” Della said, frowning, “never boarded the boat.”

“Where’s he been all this time, then?” Dewey asked.

“We don’t know,” said Scrooge. “But I, for one, intend to find out.”

Louie fished his phone out from where it had fallen under the seat. He flipped through his apps until he found his text messages. He sent the first without really thinking.

 

_To: dadnald_

_hey uncle d where are u?_

The second – he held his thumb over the “triplet nonsense” group message for a long moment before deciding against it.

 

_To: Hubert_

_uncle donald wouldn’t leave us behind, right?_

Huey startled when his phone buzzed. After he read the text, he looked up at his brother with haunted eyes and shook his head in a small, quick motion.

Louie took a deep, steadying breath. Huey was right, that was a possibility they _couldn’t_ entertain.

But if he wasn’t on the cruise, and he hadn’t abandoned the family, then _where was Uncle Donald?_


End file.
